One Cold Tear And Three Drops Of Blood
by Karla Phoenix
Summary: Formally 'Man's Best Friend', a series of murders makes Virgil and Gordon nervous, can they work out the pattern before they're next? Old Story - No Longer Updated
1. The first shot

Sorry to anyone who got completely confused by 'Chris', it was accidental, I edited it for a friend, and as she has no idea I ever watched Thunderbirds, I changed Virg's name, so when it said 'Chris' it meant Virgil, sorry!!!!  
I decided to change it a bit.... but not over the top.  
I left the mailbox in, though!  
If you've read it before, perhaps you should read it through, to note the changes.  
Please r&r!  
  
Phoenix  
---x---  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Gordon groaned when Scott swung his door open, cringing at the unanticipated light, he'd been awake for the last ten minutes, pondering wether to go back to sleep or to get up.  
  
"You've been asleep for hours!" Scott yelled at him, Gordon flinched, the sound resounded within his head "It's ten o'clock!"  
  
Scott then switched the light on, precipitating further pain, Gordon yanked the covers over his head, detecting footsteps, he sighed, it was the old practice, in a minute.....  
  
Scott tipped the bed up, making Gordon roll out onto the floor, he inescapably climbed wearily to his feet, accepting vanquish, scowling at the grin he was awarded, the grin transformed to a frown in about ten seconds.  
  
"Hey, Gordo, you look like you spent all last night drinking, you've got a hangover."  
  
Discovery of the century. Gordon thought bitterly, he stalked stormily out of the room, pushing past the villainous Scott, who fell back, thoroughly uncaring, Gordon departed for the lounge.  
  
He was resigned to the reality that the lounge would be even brighter than his room, but the conclusion of being able to get a cup of coffee more or less made it worth it.  
  
It was. Incomparably too bright. Gordon stayed at the door, Virgil gave him a glance, head cocked, then shrugged and returned to his own cup.  
  
Giving up with the idea of getting coffee, he turned and plodded, defeated, back to his room, thankfully, Scott had gone.  
  
Gordon closed the door softly then climbed back onto his bed, lifting and unfolding the letter that was beneath his pillow.  
  
He read it, like he had last night, with tears arising to his eyes, still incapable of accepting what had caused him to drink himself almost unconscious the previous night.  
  
He finally folded it again, sighing, he couldn't brood on it, anyway, he had to tell Virgil sooner or later, even though she had been a year younger...  
  
And Gordon had been in the same year.  
  
And now.... he couldn't sustain to think about it.  
  
Oh no, more footsteps, the door opened, again.  
  
This time, he was relieved to see, it was not Scott, but Virgil, the brothers differed, Scott would make you get up, Virgil would just, recommend it, though he was not known for his potential to wake up early himself.  
  
Virgil shut the door.  
  
"Hey, Gordon, are you okay? You seemed a bit, depressed."  
  
I am in a family of masterminds, they can calculate any perplexing or complicated problem so effortlessly. Gordon grinned to himself.  
  
"Ah, you have reached the same astonishing truth as Scott, then, that I'm hung over." He queried, a smile on his face, Virgil looked awkward, and then nodded.  
  
"I guessed so, so, why the sudden hang over?" Virgil inquired, taking up position beside Gordon, who sighed, passing over the letter.  
  
Virgil took in the information on the slight piece of paper, he eventually gazed up at Gordon, tears in his eyes.  
  
"I don't believe it, I don't want to..."  
  
"It's true, I got it last night, it's from her mother, she had always been my pen pal, but now she's..." Gordon lowered his head, gazing sadly at the floor, not capable of vocalizing the last word.  
  
Virgil unexpectedly put his arm around Gordon's shoulders and hugged him, Gordon heard Virgil give a low sigh.  
  
"Read it out loud, once more." Virgil told him warmly, Gordon nodded, and drew the letter before his eyes.  
  
"Dear Gordon, I regret most painfully to tell you that Melissa went missing a few days ago, last night the police found her in a forest, murdered," Gordon paused briefly at this word, adding emphasis, before continuing "she had been stabbed several times with a blunt knife, or that was what the police told me, I was incredibly distraught by this news, and thought that I should tell you, as her friend, the funeral is on Sunday, I would be most obliged if you could come, as my husband died a few years back, please, Gordon." Gordon stopped again, this time to rub his eyes.  
  
"I send my love, Gordon, and hope you will join me on Sunday, thank you, Diane Cox." Gordon folded the letter, and slipped it into a the draw beside his bed.  
  
Virgil shook his head slowly, seemingly unbelieving. "Poor Mel." He then looked up and Gordon "Are you going, then?"  
  
Gordon was standing up, hands shoved in pockets, he nodded slowly, reminding Virgil of when they had been kids, with Gordon scuffing his shoes on the edge of the carpet, hands in pockets, just after he'd kicked a football through a neighbours window.  
  
"If dad let's me." Gordon muttered.  
  
Virgil stood up, heading towards the exit, he turned "I'll ask him, Gordo, see you later, I'll make sure Scott doesn't bother you, probably by chaining him to the wall, but there you go." he grinned and went out, closing the door behind him.  
  
Gordon smiled, before sighing and sitting down at his desk, it was pretty disorganized, with papers covering all available space, in fact, you couldn't see the desk at all.  
  
He managed to unearth a piece of paper and an old ballpoint pen.  
  
'Dear Diane,' He wrote 'I will come over for the funeral, accept my deepest sympathies for Mel's death, see you on Sunday, Gordon Tracy."   
  
It looked satisfactory to him, he put it in an envelope, neatly folding the flap in, he detested licking the things, they'd made planes faster than the speed of sound, but no envelopes with no-lick flaps.  
  
Gordon finally dressed, before departing his room and heading for the lounge, this time, when he invaded, nobody actually noticed, Scott had gone off somewhere, much to his relief, and Virgil was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Alan was immersed in a book, and Tin-Tin was attempting to get his attention, but aborting the mission quickly, she acknowledged that Gordon was in the room with a nod.  
  
Gordon shook his head, grinning, he exited the lounge for the mail box, passing the swimming pool, finally reaching his goal.  
  
He slipped his note inside, only to recall that he hadn't put a stamp on.  
  
"Oh, shit." Gordon muttered as he put his arm in order to reach the note, he only succeeded in getting his hand caught.  
  
He groaned, today was getting better and better, he desperately tried to yank his arm out of the incriminating mailbox which had decided to swallow his hand.  
  
"Get off! You bloody, bloody..." Gordon yelled, only to be cut off by Scott, who was stationed behind him.  
  
"Need any help?" Scott asked in a mock good natured voice.  
  
"Well, you don't say." Gordon informed him sarcastically  
  
"Okay, if you don't need any help..." Scot made as if to depart, Gordon grabbed him by his good arm.  
  
"Get my arm out of this thing." He yelled, Scott shrugged.  
  
"You don't need any help."  
  
"I do, okay?"   
  
"Thank you for apologising, goodbye." Scott walked off, Gordon staring after him, unbelieving, his brother had deserted him, here, stranded on the edge of the runway, held captive by a man-eating mailbox.  
  
Gordon laughed later about the situation, but a that moment, he wanted to behead someone.  
  
"I'll kill him for this." He muttered angrily, twisting his hand round, undertaking the task of freeing himself, the mailbox, however, seemed to be somewhat hungry, and held on.  
  
"Let go will you! You man-eating mailbox! I'll...." Gordon suddenly realised that he was having a discussion with a mailbox.  
  
It was an hour before Virgil detected him, and came over.  
  
"Hi Gordo, having problems?"  
  
I hate being in this family, they'd rather state the complete and utter obvious than actually help one of their own. Gordon thought fiercely.  
  
Virgil, however, managed to detach Gordon's arm from the abomination - the mailbox from hell.  
  
"That mailbox ate me! I hate it, it is evil!" Gordon screamed, before legging it off back to the house, Virgil turned back to the mailbox.  
  
"Don't worry, I still like you, mailbox." For some curious reason, Virgil patted the mailbox comfortingly, before realising what he was doing and withdrawing his hand.  
  
"I think the mailbox is possessed, actually." Virgil muttered, before running after Gordon, the mailbox standing there, you wouldn't have thought it, a mailbox, just sitting innocently, you wouldn't imagine that it was actually the possessed mailbox, the abomination, the corrupted mailbox - from hell.  
  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
r&r, it's what keeps me writing. 


	2. A new murder

Mr. Evil mailbox..... I may put it in later.  
  
Hope you enjoy the next chapter!  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Gordon leaned out of the window of the jet, Virgil had demanded on piloting, as always.  
  
The ocean shimmered far below him, it's exterior almost utterly smooth, with the reservation of a ripple, provoked by a light wind, Gordon grinned slightly, the sea had inevitably been a origin of great console, he could survey it's ruthless waves or untroubled serenity eternally, bringing good contemplations along with bad, and helped him to find an answer, or to help him acknowledge it.  
  
Sighing, he remembered where and why he was going.  
  
Thinking about it, he wondered why Melissa was chosen as a target, she wasn't uncommonly popular, or unpopular, she was just, normal.  
  
The sole thing he could think of was that she could paint, but that wasn't much of a lead, Sophie could paint, Joanne could paint.  
  
Sighing, he decided to abandon the debate for a time, it could wait, he turned to examine Virgil next to him, who was humming annoyingly.  
  
"Virg?" Gordon asked seemingly politely.  
  
"Uh huh?" Virgil said, eyes trained on a carrier jet around a mile in front of them  
  
"Shut up." Gordon leant back in his chair, the safety straps almost strangling him, he loosened them a bit, then made a mental note to ask Brains about them.  
  
Virgil made no response to his comment, except he stopped humming - then started whistling, though Gordon now knew it was to annoy him.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The funeral was what Gordon and Virgil had expected, lots of black, a vicar, that sort of thing.  
  
The service started soon, Gordon kept his head down, listening only a little to the known words the vicar was solemnly saying, he had always been doubtful of funerals, the vicar had never met Melissa, never even seen her, it seemed wrong that he was talking about her being generous and such, when he didn't even know.  
  
He almost smiled when the vicar said something about her being good and kind, she had kicked footballs through windows as much as he had, and had got even more detentions.  
  
Virgil, Gordon knew, shared the same thoughts, they had discussed it before, well, discussed it with their mother.  
  
The recollection was painful, he could remember Virgil coming in to the room when Lucille was tucking him into bed, and asking wether God was real, because the man on the television had said he wasn't.  
  
Lucille had beckoned him over to Gordon's bed, and sat him on it, Gordon had sat up, interested.  
  
"God is only in our hearts, Virgil, we can't see him, just as we can't see the air, can you se the air?" Lucille had asked gently, Virgil had shaken his head, eyes wide.  
  
"God is like the air, he's there, but we can't see him, he helps us make hard decisions, helps us live our life, and he loves us."  
  
"Why?" Gordon had asked.  
  
"Because he does, it's not a why, it's a fact, he loves us, all of us."  
  
"Even the baddies on cowboy films? And Tom from Tom and Jerry?" Virgil had, asked, head on his mother's shoulder.  
  
Lucille had laughed, a soft, sweet laugh.  
  
"Yes, them too, so, God isn't a man sitting on a cloud, he's part of all of us, he is real, and he isn't, if you only believe in things you can see, hear and touch, then he isn't real, but if you believe in yourself, then he is."  
  
Virgil had nodded.  
  
"Let's take you to bed." Virgil and Lucille had gone, it was the last he'd ever seen of his mother, the last time he had ever heard he sweet gentle voice, Jeff had taken her skiing the next morning, before Gordon was up, when he got up, his Grandma had told him they were out.  
  
This didn't worry him, they had gone out before.  
  
Two hours later, Jeff had called, Scott had answered it, John standing behind him, Gordon had known something was wrong when he had got into the lounge, Scott was standing, pale-faced, listening to the phone, he had given it to Grandma, and had left.  
  
Gordon and Virgil had gone after him, to find him crying in his bedroom.  
  
"Scott, what's the matter?" They had chorused, Scott had looked up.  
  
"Mum is gone." He told them in a choked voice.  
  
"What do you mean?" Virgil had asked, hugging Scott's ten year old self with his little seven year old one.  
  
"She got killed on the skis, she's not coming back, she went to sleep and is never going to wake up."  
  
In Virgil's room, an hour later, Virgil turned, ashen-faced.  
  
"God didn't help mummy, mummy died, God isn't real, the man was right." He had said sharply.  
  
Gordon had nodded, gripping his knees with his arms, tears running down his white face.  
  
Gordon sighed, the memory hurt still.  
  
".....let her soul rest in heaven, in eternal peace, amen." The vicar closed his holy book, nodded, and left, Gordon watched him go.  
  
"Let's go, Gordo." Virgil muttered.  
  
Melissa's mother was weeping in a friend's arms, she nodded, and they left the grounds.  
  
They were halfway to the house, going past the forest where Melissa had been found, when they heard a blood-curdling shriek.  
  
"What the...?" Virgil twisted round sharply, looking into the forest.  
  
  
"We'd better check it out." Gordon yelled, and they ran into the deep green of the thick forest.  
  
The branches hid most of their limited view, the greenness slightly scary, Gordon heard a hiss of a snake, then a bird cheeping, breaking into the silence.  
  
Virgil led them into a clearing, Gordon's heart stopped when he saw what was in front of him.  
  
A body, slumped over, on closer inspection, he saw it was Sophie, Melissa's friend, she looked alright, until Gordon turned her over.  
  
Two gunshots in her back.  
  
Gordon looked up at Virgil, who was pale.  
  
"Who'll be next?" 


	3. Drowned

Another day, another chapter.  
  
I'm sorry about keeping anyone who is actually bothered in my story waiting for the next chapter.  
  
Phoenix  
---x---  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The young girl was held firmly, her hands tied behind her back, tears fell down her cheeks as she saw the man bring a weight up to her, and secured it to her back.  
  
The river was deep and cold, it's surface undisturbed, all birds and fish were gone, there had been Cyanide poisoning a year ago and, despite several attempts, the sea life could not be replaced.  
  
As if she cared, the man that had taken her, shoved her into a car, and driven her to this river, the fast flowing river, now stopped, looking her full in the face for the first time, the girl was surprised, he looked only twenty, at the oldest, there was a conclusion in his dark eyes that the girl didn't like, and there was a scar along his cheek, he looked as though he'd had a tough time himself lately.  
  
The guy dropped his head and sighed, before taking her to the edge of the river.  
  
"Why?" She asked suddenly, her voice choked with emotion.  
  
The man simply shook his head, and made sure the weight was fastened to her fully, when the check was over, he came up to her side.  
  
"Goodbye." He muttered, and forced her off the side, her screams were somehow stoppered, her body hit the water like steel, she cringed, and felt herself go under.  
  
Her deep blue eyes watched the coloured surface of the water move away, it swirled with green and red, mixed with blue, the girl held her gathered breath, knowing inside that she would never taste fresh air again, as the surface went out of her view, the seriousness of her need for air became more and more demanding.  
  
She felt her vision fade, her mind slipped, not able to concentrate.  
  
Finally, her desperate body forced her to breathe in, water flooded into her lungs, leaving no air at all in her body, her lungs burned and her consciousness began to leave.  
  
Suddenly, strong arms yanked her up, but it was too late, her consciousness left, leaving her form to go limp.  
  
  
The strong arms belonged to a red-haired guy who swam her to the surface.  
  
"What happened to the person that pushed her in?" Asked the man as soon as he reached the air again, he gasped then pulled himself up on the shore.  
  
"He went before I had a chance of getting after him, what about her?" A deep brown haired man asked worriedly, frowning.  
  
"I don't know." The red haired guy (what the heck, Gordon) leaned over her limp form, he quickly looked more urgent and tried artificial respiration, but to no avail, she was dead, a small ghost of a smile on her face.  
  
Virgil sighed, coming over to his standing brother's side, they had seen the man pushing the girl into the river, and had come straight over, the man who had done it had escaped, all the information they had was that he drove a white Mercedes.  
  
Virgil slung an arm around his brother's neck "Don't beat yourself up, Gordo," He encouraged "It wasn't your fault."  
  
Gordon shook his head and knelt to lift the body of the girl up, she was feather light, sodden black hair down her back, head tilted backwards.  
  
"We should have been faster." Gordon muttered darkly, Virgil looked closer at the drowned girl, she was deathly pale and had black hair, she was quite pretty, if you liked that sort of thing.  
  
"Why are you so upset?" Virgil asked, before realizing it was a stupid question, he was holding a murdered girl, probably a reason to be upset.  
  
Though Gordon looked over-upset, he looked up from staring at the girl, he looked as though he was about to cry.  
  
"It's Amy." He murmured, Virgil instantly got the picture, Amy was an old girlfriend of Gordon's, they had only split up because of Gordon's sudden and unexplained removal to Tracy island, Amy had been an aquanaut with him (note: was Gordon in W.A.S.P?) And had seen the hydrofoil accident which had almost cost Gordon his life (I'm starting to sink into Sooty mode now).  
  
Gordon had tried on many an occasion to get in touch with her, wanting their relationship to continue, if she felt the same way, he'd never know (oh, damn, I'm there, goodbye, sanity).  
  
"C'mon, we'd better report this to the police." Virgil steered Gordon away towards the road, and towards the police station.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A nice, short chapter to bug you all.  
  
I will not resort to previews, do not despair.  
  
I apologise for falling into Sooty mode, I don't know what got into me.  
  
Latest news from the guild of village idiots, I hate politicians, people who smoke, I love, phoenixes, people who review (hint!) And people who give me presents.  
  
Acutally, don't review, I want to do the next chapter and I know this one is pretty crap o_o  
  
Phoenix  
---x--- 


End file.
